


Winning His Game

by KatG



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Dark, F/M, Forced Abortion, I don't feel bad for him though, Mental Breakdown, Murder, Murder in the 1st Degree, Not for the faint of heart, Original Character(s), Rant, Rape, Spouse Abuse, Toxic Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 06:38:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatG/pseuds/KatG
Summary: Having suffered abuse at the hands of her husband, she finally takes charge of her own life.





	Winning His Game

"How dare you tell me that I am anything but perfect. How dare you point out my flaws like I don't already they're there. How dare you hide me from the world in shame of me. How dare you belittle me when I am capable of much greater things than you." She finds herself pacing in the basement, hands shaking as years of anger course through her.

"But most of all," She stops for a moment in an attempt to regain her composure, her back facing him. Her voice drops to almost nothing. "But most of all how dare you turn around and tell me that you love me. That you would do anything for me."

Like a flood the anger courses through her again, her voice rises through clenched teeth as a bitter tears streaks down, "I am sick of all the lies. I'm done with the guilt." She picks up pacing again, her feet carrying her swiftly back and forth the musty basement, "I'm sick of the way you accuse me of cheating on you when you're the one who comes home smelling sex. I'm so fucking sick of the way you treat me like I'm a God-damned toy that you can play with whenever the mood strikes. No means no, but that's something you never understood. I'm not your fucking property, Troy. You can't just do whatever you want with me just because you struck out with everyone else."

Her hands are shaking so bad now, her heart pounding hard enough to make her dizzy. Her words are as harsh as her tone, "You have nothing to blame for this. You don't do drugs, you rarely drink. You just do it in the name of fucking love."

She takes a deep unsteady breath, stopping to stand in front of him, letting her face get within inches of his. "Well, let me tell you something, Troy. Love is NOT an excuse. It's not a reason to cause pain. You wouldn't beat someone you love half to death then refuse to take them to a hospital because it might make you look bad."

It takes all she has not to end it right then and there, the anger is there bubbling over. It takes a few breathes and backing away to settle herself. This is something she's been waiting for, she was going to get it all out while she still could.

She's pacing again. Slower this time, facing him. Never letting her gaze fall from him. "You know what, Troy. I might have believed all your lies at some point, hell I might have forgiven you too, but we both know the only reason that I'm still here is because you won't let me leave." The last few words are slow, methodical.   
"Do you remember that time I tried to leave you? Because I remember every fucking second of it. I was so careful, Troy. I was half-way across the damn country and you still found me, drug me back here kicking and screaming." Her voice raises loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood. Not that it matters, she's screamed before and no one called the cops for her before.

"Every night I was scared shitless when you'd pull up. There was always something for you to pissed about. Always. Every night was a new level of Hell. That's not how I want to live my life, Troy."

A smile creeps across her face, her voice dropping down from the scream to a whisper as she leans in next to his ear. "But guess what baby. I'm not afraid of you anymore. I mean, just look at how helpless you are now. Bound and gagged like the visions of my fantasies.

"Who's the pathetic piece of meat now?" Her voice rises at the question sharply making him flinch almost toppling the dining chair he's tied to.  
"Every beating I've endured at the hands of you, every harsh remark, every mark you've given me. They've only made me angrier, only fueled a fire that rages against you. My body was PURE before I met you. NOW LOOK AT ME!"

Her arms swing wildly out to the sides forming a t. "I can't even count the scars anymore. There isn't a part of me that doesn't display the cruel art that you've painted on my skin. The entirety of my body aches."

Her voice drops again. A whimper comes out as she wraps her hands follow the memories of injury. "My neck is still red from you found me at the motel outside of Kansas. My arms are covered in burn marks because I'm nothing more than an ashtray to you. My stomach is still bruised from a couple weeks ago when you found out I was pregnant and decided your boots where the only abortion I was worthy of."

Her arms linger over her stomach, her entire body shaking at the memory. "For fuck's sake, I can't even remember the last time you allowed me to leave the house." Her voice is steadily rising now like a kettle coming to boil. "The pain, the isolation, the everlasting anxiety, it's all because of you, you filthy animal! You made me go numb. I trusted you! I LOVED you!"

As angry as her voice is, it still cracks as a sob breaks through. "I loved you and you ruined me! Day by day you destroyed every aspect of my being. I had dreams you know, I was going to be something. I'm nothing now, you killed any chance I ever had at a good life, a happy life. Everything I used to be, could have been is gone! It's nothing but dust in the God-forsaken wind. You mean nothing to me, I mean nothing to me because of you! Can't you see how much you've ruined me?"

She's at boiling point, as loud as humanly possible with hot tears coming down endlessly. "I can't take it anymore, I can't take it! For years the only good dreams I've had are of you being dead. I've dreamt a thousand different ways to kill you. I will never feel happier than I will when I'm watching you scream in pain."

A laugh stumbles out sounding inhuman as her voice steadies to a conversational tone. Her hands have steadied now too. "You. The man who imprisoned me in the home we bought together. You. Who treated beating me daily like a fun little game where only you could win. You. The man who has lived his life to hurt me is hearing his last words and is doing so in fear of me. I've won."

She leans in close to him bearing a wicked smile, pulling his knife out from the back pocket of her jeans. "Shall we get started?"

**Author's Note:**

> This was my speech for my senior year of high school speech competition. It was incredible the difference in responses I got from female and male judges. I had one comment that "that isn't abuse" and my heart just dropped.


End file.
